There's a lot going on in this busy icon titled, "Joy of All That Sorrow." The Mother of God is depicted standing on a slightly raised platform around which crowds of people offer their prayers, written on scrolls and presented by angels. The prayers being sent up say, "Visit and help us in old age and sickness," "Help those who suffer from cold and nakedness," "Give nourishment to the hungry," "Be with us in our traveling." That's okay, of course, but I'd suggest these prayers are rather generic, while St. Paul writes:
Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice. Let all men know your forbearance. The Lord is at hand. Have no anxiety about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, will keep your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:4-7
We might keep this icon nearby, and in our gazing-prayer imagine ourselves offering scroll-prayers expressive of "everything" in our own situation and time — our own national, cultural, ecclesial and global need. Perhaps scrolls that read something like these:
"Strengthen and protect the health care workers.'
"Convert the indifferent and the cavalier."
"Bring order out of our cultural chaos."
"Give clean hearts to the politicians."
"Fresh vision to the clergy."
"Joy to the mourners and the suffering."
"Turn the bitter heart."
"Heal the gun lust."
"The bullying, blaming, name-callers."
"Soften stony hearts."
"Fill the greed-spawning emptiness."
"Cure the national anxiety."
"Bless the helpers; the restorers of calm."
"May we get our racial house in order."
"Grow me up in a new Christ-mind."
Notice that the Mother of God stands in a fanciful garden — a supra-real, blooming garden of great beauty (even sun and moon participate). I don't want to be an admirer, but to accept the invitation to enter this enchanted garden of wonder, life and light, where I may suspend my everyday concerns of shopping, cleaning, business (busyness), endless talking, and to enter a childlike world of humble simplicity and joy. The priest-monk Gabriel Bunge has said:
"A believer is not a gloomy type waiting for the end of the world (Apocalypse) but a rejoicing one. He (she) is optimistic about life, the world, people. No matter what."
The word "gloomy" doesn't appear until the late 16th century. Shakespeare used gloomy to describe the woods. Gloomy aptly describes not a few Christians: dark, depressing, displeased, dim, unhappy, without hope, not expecting any good in persons. These Christians unknowingly deny the Incarnation — that all the world is sacred — that God, rather than disdaining and condemning our world, ping-ing us off into a black hole of punishment and loss, has gone to a great deal of trouble to be with us in healing, encouragement and the invitation to love. Once I get this — really down-deep get this, everything is fresh and different.
